


Extensive Properties

by Rachael Sabotini (wickedwords)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Ancient Outpost, Cabin Fic, Community: undermistletoe, First Time, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-22
Updated: 2006-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5491097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwords/pseuds/Rachael%20Sabotini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in the underground ruins of an ancient outpost...with fruitcake</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extensive Properties

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the undermistletoe community's 'Mystery Schmoop Week'. Thanks to Montana Harper for doing the beta!

Ancient outpost or junk shop? That was the burning question Rodney was considering as he tossed another broken crystal on top of yet another dusty trinket just to hear the satisfying clink. He'd found a few possible replacement crystals in the pile of rubble left from a series of earthquakes, and set them aside to retest once they got back to Atlantis. "I really hoped for more than a tourist trap when we were invited to view the Ancient ruins." 

John nodded absently, not looking up from the laptop he'd propped on his knees. Standing and stretching, his back reminding him that hello, squatting for hours was bad, Rodney wandered over to where John sat and leaned against the wall. Rodney squinted at the display. Sudoku. "That should be a seven, not a nine." 

"Ah-ah-ah," John said, holding his finger up in the air. "You know I like to figure these out for myself." 

"Yes, well, you could at least try to challenge yourself by doing something other than the easy puzzles." Using the wall for support, Rodney eased himself into sitting on the ground next to John, his leg twinging slightly as he moved. His shoulder brushed John's, and Rodney let himself lean against it, telling himself he was doing so because of the little bit of additional warmth when they sat close together. "Think Teyla and Ronon have made it back to civilization yet?" 

"Yeah. It was less than an hour's hike back to the gate," John said, frowning. He changed the seven to nine, and added the rest of the digits into their correct positions. "Atlantis sends in a jumper and before you know it, the cavalry's letting us out." He did a kind of shrug with his eyebrows and lips. "In this case, the Marines." 

"Do you ever wonder if they get tired of rescuing you?" Rodney pulled his hand away from John's neck and stuffed it into his lap. John had said the scratches were nothing, and Rodney had promised not to fuss over them. 

"Nah. We had to rescue Lorne's team just last week, so it all works out." 

John's radio cracked. Rodney glanced longingly at the remains of his own radio, crushed under one of the support pillars where he'd lost it when John had shoved him out of the way of the collapsing ceiling. 

"Radek," John said, giving a thumbs-up signal. "It's good to hear you. How long do you think it'll take to dig us out?" He nodded while Radek spoke; Rodney folded his arms across his chest. Yes, it was John's radio, but come on. He didn't know anything about their situation. 

"What weird weather?" John frowned, and okay, that was it. 

"Weird as in giant hurricane?" Rodney said, ripping the headset off of John's head. 

"Ow." John rubbed his ear. He stood and stretched, then walked over to the pile of junk Rodney had sorted through; Rodney turned slightly when he found himself staring at the dirt on John's ass. 

"Weird as in sudden windstorm, but not quite a hurricane," Radek replied. Now that he mentioned it, Rodney could hear the wind picking up outside of the building. Radek's voice was faint, but Rodney could still hear him as long as he pressed the radio tight against his ear. 

"Huh. I didn't think there was a storm watch in effect." One of the artifacts John picked up turned on, casting a greenish-blue glow over the area. John winked at Rodney, turned it off, and tossed it back on the pile. They had two dozen of those torch-things back on Atlantis. He picked up a second one but didn't turn it on. Instead, he came back to squat by Rodney's side and listen in on Rodney's half of the conversation. 

"According to the villagers, under certain conditions the weather can shift dramatically—" 

"Whatever." Rodney cut Radek off, waving his hand in the air. "Unless it's a once-every-ten-thousand-years event, you should be able to use something to dig us out." 

Leaning heavily against Rodney's side, John pulled the mike toward his mouth. "Marines, if nothing else." 

Rodney shoved his head away, and John toppled over, his legs spread wide. "Hey," he grumbled. "I was just trying to help." 

"We still have that drilling equipment that the geologists ordered. It can't take that long to ferry it over here." Rodney stood and brushed the dirt off of his ass. 

"Getting it to the planet is no problem, but after? The equipment must be hauled carefully up the mountainside after the storm clears." 

"Why do you have to wait for the storm to clear?" Rodney glanced around the room, walking forward to where the rock fall had sealed off the room. He held his hand up over the doorway. Sound, yes, but nothing else. There was no airflow through where the doorway had been. Not good, not good, so not good. "In case it hasn't been mentioned, we are trapped underground in an ancient junk shop." Adrenaline surging through his system, Rodney tried to visualize a wide open field of flowers. "And there may be a distinct lack of fresh air—" 

"Rodney?" John called to him from across the room. "What's up?" 

Rodney snapped his fingers. "Environmental controls." 

"What about the environmental controls?" Radek asked, sounding puzzled. 

"I'll let you know when I have them turned on." Switching the radio off, he looked over at John, and caught him rubbing at his bare arms. Of course. John never wore his jacket anywhere. He had to be freezing. 

"Come on," Rodney said, nodding at the exit to their room. "Looks like we'll be here a while, so let's put your gene to some use and get the environmental controls on before we freeze to death or die of hypoxia." He grabbed his laptop and stomped into the hallway, pleased when the emergency lighting flickered on. At least he knew there was power, and hey! Not underwater. That was always a plus. "I already tried that once, and don't plan on doing it again." 

"Where are we headed?" John asked, falling into step beside him. 

"If this is an ancient outpost, it's probably—" Rodney brought up the schematics on his laptop. "—this one, EJ17." 

John stared at the diagram. "That's a pretty small outpost. I think my uncle owned an RV bigger than that." 

"Still larger than your uncle's house, I'm sure." 

"You didn't know my uncle." 

"Anyway, the environmental control should be located...here." He pressed the screen, and a yellow light started blinking. "All we need to do is follow this corridor here to get to the main control room, then you initialize the console, and voila. When they finally dig us out, we are sipping hot coffee from our MREs, lounging around reading .pdf files." 

John looked at him oddly. "What .pdf files?" 

"Oh, uh. Nothing." 

"Rodney." John put his hands on his hips and grinned. Oh. Teasing. Right. "What kind of files did you bring?" 

"Uh...technical journals?" It sounded lame even to him. 

"Cool." John's grin got even got even bigger. "I'm sure you'll be happy to share." 

"Yes, yes, fine. Initialize console first, read porn after." 

* * *

"It's not initializing, Rodney."

"Something must be wrong with the power couplings." Rodney shoved John aside, and ducked under the console to pull off the access hatch. He shined his lamp into the recesses, gritting his teeth at the darkened crystals. "Oh crap." 

"What's up?" John said, crouching on the floor next to him.

Rodney crawled back out from under the console, feeling disgusted. "As usual, a lot of the crystals are burned out." 

"That tends to happen in ten thousand years."

Rodney flicked an 'I can't believe you are so stupid' glance at John. "I think that I can use the crystals we found to get the CO2 scrubbers back on line, but I'm not sure how long it'll take." 

"Imminent death?" John said brightly.

Rodney shrugged. "It's a possibility."

"It's familiar, anyway." John laid his hand on Rodney's thigh. "I'll go get the crystals. You just...do what you do. And get the heat on when you can. It's really cold here." John exhaled slowly, a small plume of warm air spilling out of his mouth. "I think that other room was warmer." 

"Thank you, Colonel Obvious. I'm more worried about hypoxia right now than hypothermia." 

"And...?"

"And what? We run out of oxygen and then we die? You do understand that, right?" 

"Sure. Just if it was really likely, you'd be a little more panicked." 

Rodney gaped at John, then shut his mouth and waved his hand in front of his face. "Oh., fine. You caught me. Imminent death in three or four hours. Plenty of time to grab a cup of coffee first." 

"Cool." John patted Rodney's belly affectionately. "I'll just go get the crystals, so you can get the controls fixed lickety-split." 

"Lickety-split." Shaking his head, Rodney gave up. It was impossible to be serious when faced with John's most earnest expression. Only— A flare of near-wistful longing flashed through John's eyes, quickly buried under the veneer of his 'good buddy' expression. 

"Be right back," John said, tugging at the sleeves on his bare arms, as if he could lengthen the fabric somehow. 

"It's only a few hundred meters," Rodney yelled after him. "Where else could you go?" 

The room was too quiet without John. Rodney hooked up his laptop and ran diagnostics, double-checking the data to see which crystals would be the first replacement choices and which might work if required. They needed two of the yellows and one of the blues, definitely, and possibly one of the light green hexagons. 

"Miss me?" John slid onto the floor next to Rodney, dropping a shirt full of crystals onto Rodney's stomach. 

"Are you crazy?" Rodney said, grabbing the crystals before they could roll off. "It's like five degrees here, and you're going shirtless." 

"I didn't have anything else to carry them in."

"If you would have—" Rodney sorted through the crystals, pulling out the two yellows and a blue, but there were no green. He thought maybe one of the reddish hexes would do, if he rerouted through the secondary power system. "Fine, fine, whatever. Here, help me clip this in." 

"What about heat?" John said, pulling his shirt back on. God, his lips looked like they were turning blue. 

"Breathing first. Heating second."

"You got it."

Rodney crawled back under the console, and John manned the crystals, tools, and laptop, pulling up data or whatever else was required just as Rodney needed it. John had become pretty adept at helping hot-wire ancient technology—though Rodney was never going to mention that—and they fell into an easy pattern. He'd snap his fingers or say a word, and instantly, John was there with the data or crystal, or doing whatever prep work Rodney required. 

It was a heady, heady feeling, like working with Radek on a really good day, when the big pieces just fell together. The moment that Rodney slapped the last crystal in place, John went through the initialization routine; Rodney immediately felt the trickle of air flow against his skin that meant they had gotten it right. 

He was able to turn the heat on, too, but that would take longer to have any effect. 

John grinned at him, and Rodney just...gave in. He leaned over and licked the corner of John's lips. Rodney could feel the wind- and sun-rough skin pressed to his, taste the bitter saltiness of sweat where it had gathered and dried on John's upper lip. He had thought about this before, fantasized about it really, and in his head it was all so easy. He would moan and lean in, opening his mouth eagerly. John would grab him, shoving his hands under Rodney's shirt as quickly as Rodney shoved his in John's pants. 

The reality was a lot different, though, and Rodney sat there as John stiffened and pulled away. "Uhm, sorry." 

"Yeah. Sorry." John sounded just this side of furious. "Rodney—" 

"John—" Embarrassed and feeling somewhat ham-fisted, Rodney groped for words, both of them speaking at the same time. Neither followed up, though, each of them staring at the other until John pulled away, fist clenched tight against his stomach. 

"What? You didn't see this coming?" Rodney could hear the venom in his voice. "You had to know—" 

"I know, I fucking know!" John yelled, slapping his hand on the wall near one of the emergency lights. Rodney wanted to say something—apologize, make a joke, anything to bring John back—when a grinding noise started, long and low, making Rodney's teeth ache. 

The section of the wall nearest John pulled aside, revealing a small room with what looked like a work bench, a cot covered with some sort of tanned animal skin, and a metal chest. That was certainly a way to break up the tension. John glanced over at Rodney, nodding toward the room. Rodney could see the stress at the corners of his mouth, and in the way his hands curled toward his weapon, pleading for action. 

Okay, fine. Stuff it aside, shove it away, don't think about it. The usual John Sheppard approach to difficult emotional things. Which...really, Rodney was okay with. It wasn't like he wanted to talk about this stuff either. 

"Well," Rodney said shakily, turning to face the room rather than John. "Looks like you found where the junk shop owner was living." Heart pounding, he pushed past John into the room, his scanner out; nothing registered. There were no consoles or other equipment to indicate that this might have been a lab, and it looked like it had been appropriated as a hunting lodge several dozen years ago. 

At least the bear/deer/yeti-thing skin on the bed looked warm, and it wasn't rotting away. "Maybe you should wrap yourself up in that, if you're cold." 

"I'm fine," John said stiffly. He traced his hands over the walls, checking for other gene-activated doors. "Nothing." 

He look over, and his gaze caught Rodney's, sending a sharp thread of want deep into Rodney's gut; the air between them crackled with energy. Rodney wanted to reach out and grab John, pull him in close, wrap his hands around John's back and kiss him thoroughly. The sudden need to touch made Rodney shake inside, the way he felt when his blood sugar dropped, his hunger for John as strong as his body's incessant hunger for food. 

John's quick intake of breath broke the spell, and Rodney turned away just as John spoke: "It was just adrenaline, right?" John offered him the easy way out. 

No. No, no, no. He wasn't going to listen to John right now, not if John was going to use his 'let's be reasonable' voice. Instead, Rodney turned to the chest and scanned it. "You know, when I played Dungeons and Dragons, there was a thief in the party whose job it was to check for traps and pick locks." 

"I only know how to use a credit card for that, and it doesn't look like it'll fit here." John leaned over Rodney's back to look at the scanner; every place they touched it was like flint against steel, sending sparks through Rodney's body. "Anything interesting?" 

The heat pouring off John's body was incredibly distracting, but Rodney had learned to ignore it no matter how much he craved it. "This thing is energetically dead, but that doesn't rule out poisons or other booby-traps." 

"Oh." John grabbed one of the pillows off of the bed, and tossed it on the chest. The pillow bounced off. 

"What was that for?"

John shrugged and didn't say anything. Great. It was almost like having Ronon along.  
Instead, he walked over and opened the chest. "Guess it wasn't locked." 

Inside were more blankets, pillows, and old provisions: dried fruit and meat that looked a little, well, mummified. Carefully avoiding the decaying packets, Rodney pulled out two of the blankets—one with a rust-colored diamond pattern, and one with a blue and green stripe—and set them on the floor; at least those they could use. 

"You know, it looks kinda like fruitcake." John poked at some of the more colorful bits in a loaf of dark brown stuff that he pulled out of the chest. "It's about as fresh as a fruitcake, anyway." He broke it in two, and held it up to his nose. 

"Dear God, are you sniffing that thing?"

"Smells kinda like rum."

"That's what it smells like when it's gone bad. Not everything smells like milk left out on the counter for a week." Rodney smacked John's shoulder. "You don't know how old that thing is. There could be some weird microscopic bug in there that you really don't want to eat." 

John sighed and tossed the food aside. "Yeah, I guess you're right." 

"You've been hanging out with Ronon too much." He shifted uncomfortably. "Or me, possibly." Maybe that's all it had been, just a combination of fantasy and spending too much time together. It was a pretty depressing thought. 

"Why did you kiss me?"

Puffing out a breath, Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. Okay, so neither of them was going to be able to let this go. "I wanted to." Rodney lifted his chin and stared at John, defying him to make the 'just adrenaline' comment again. "I've wanted to do that for a while, and it just seemed right." 

John grabbed the striped blanket and shook it out, draping it over his shoulders. "Oh." 

"Oh? What does that mean, oh? Oh, I'm having a freak out? Oh, I am so going to kick your ass when we get out of here? Oh, what exactly?" 

"Oh. Just. Oh."

"Why couldn't I have fallen for someone who is both brilliant _and_ verbal?" Rodney muttered, shaking out his own blanket and pulling it over his shoulders. "It's not like I was ever good at this body language and 'guess-what-I'm not saying' stuff." 

John tilted his head down and away, not looking at Rodney. "Don't worry," he said, pulling his blanket tighter around him. "I'm sure the next buxom blonde scientist we run into will be exactly what you're looking for." 

Oh, for the— "Could I use one of my lifelines to call Teyla and translate that for me?" 

"The kiss. You know. You were happy to not be dead." John shrugged and hunched forward, the tips of his fingers dangling out from under the edge of his blanket, every part of his body language screaming 'cold!' "I've seen that kind of thing before, so it's not like it's any big deal." 

No big deal. Yeah, right. Rodney got up and nudged John over, so they could sit next to each other. "It's more helpful if we share the blankets you know." He could feel John tense up as their bodies pressed against each other. This was so fucked. He shook his head and closed his eyes, so he wouldn't have to see John's reaction. "It wasn't all adrenaline. I kissed you because I like you." 

"At least that's something," John said bitterly.

"Hey!" Rodney opened his eyes and glared at John. "I am trying to be deep and meaningful here. Your attitude isn't helping." 

"My attitude?" John's mouth twitched.

"Your attitude." Rodney said firmly. "I'm trying to tell you that I find you incredibly attractive, and have since the first time you calculated the number of address permutations for the stargate. Yet you don't seem to be interested in hearing about my unrequited crush of several years' duration." Rodney shifted and pulled his blanket in a little tighter. "You're going to damage my confidence if you keep that up." 

"Well, we wouldn't want that." With a smile playing over his lips, John wrapped the edge of his blanket around Rodney. "You're right. It is warmer if we share." 

"See?" Rodney untucked his blanket and passed it around John's back, his hand casually lingering there. "I told you so." 

"You did."

They sat there a moment, and Rodney could feel the heat radiating off John's body. "So...you wanna make out?" 

"Don't you need to call Radek and tell him we're not dead?"

"Hmm. Good point. Let's make out after."

John shifted, pressing his body into Rodney's. "I think I can be persuaded." 

"Oh thank God."

It took five minutes to explain to Radek that they had both air and the possibility of heat fairly soon before the storm's interference cut the transmission off. Feeling a little silly, Rodney pulled the headset off and set it carefully on the floor, before turning to look at John. 

John lay on his side on the bed, stroking his hand over the soft fur, his whole body an invitation that made Rodney's mouth dry. Cupping his hand around the back of John's neck, he pulled him in close. He licked his lips as he glanced at John's, before gently kissing him. 

John was having none of that, though, his hands hard against Rodney's shoulders, gripping him tight. Opening his mouth, he welcomed Rodney inside, his aggressive desire shattering the calm that Rodney had been trying to project, setting his body on fire. The hunger of their kisses made Rodney sharp and focused, his hands slipping under John's shirt to feel the warm, hairy skin. A tiny moan escaped his lips, quickly swallowed by John. God, this felt so damn good. It seemed utterly insane to have not done it before. 

John pulled back, his hands pressed against Rodney's cheeks, his smile amused. "So, yeah. Not adrenaline." He swallowed hard, and Rodney pressed his fingers against John's kiss-swollen lips. 

"No, not adrenaline," he agreed. Fondness, need, and something more. 

John slid his hands down Rodney's chest to his stomach, fumbling with the buttons on his pants. It was still too cold to get completely undressed, but they pulled the covers around them so that they were warm enough to touch each other's skin. Rodney's cock surged into John's hand as soon as the fly was open, the head poking out through the opening in Rodney's boxers. Rodney felt a little weird about it, but John didn't seem to care, licking his hand until it was wet with spit, and rubbing his palm over the head of Rodney's cock—which felt utterly fantastic. His hips stuttered forward of their own accord, striving to push themselves into the slick heat of John's hand; when Rodney looked at him, John's face was lit up like he was flying. 

"This okay?" he asked softly.

"Mmm-hmm," Rodney replied. "Let me show you." Rodney pulled open the buttons on John's pants, sliding a hand inside John's boxers and wrapping it around John's cock. "Good, right?" 

"Really. Good." John groaned as Rodney twisted his wrist, moving his hand up and down the firm length of John's shaft. "Really fucking good." 

Feeling a little high himself, Rodney fisted John, rubbing his thumb over John's slit. John copied the motion, kissing Rodney as he worked Rodney's cock, and together they found a languid rhythm that worked. It just felt so good to touch John like this, and to be touched, both of them slick and warm under the blankets, licking and kissing each other like the day would never end. Hands and lips pushed aside cloth, licking at warm, bare skin, and Rodney wondered how he had never realized he was so starved for this, for the feel of John's skin under his hands, the taste of salt and sweat on his tongue. He wished it were warm enough that they could be naked. 

He promised himself that image for when they were both back in Atlantis. 

Languid kisses quickly turned demanding, and pleasant little moans transformed into panting and pleas for release. "Come on, come on Rodney. Yeah, like that. Just like that." 

"Fuck, yes, John. Right there. Harder. God, yes." Sensation piled on top of sensation on top of sensation. Rodney felt the fur underneath them when his hand accidentally brushed it as he stroked John, the covers around them sliding over his arms as he moved, their mingled breath surrounding him. His cock hard, Rodney could feel his balls pulling up tight against his body; God, he wanted to come so badly. "Just a little more, yeah, there, yes!" He threw his head back, his hand stilling against John as he felt himself let go, pulsing out onto the bed, his heart pounding its counterpoint. He breathed heavily, great gulps of air as John looked at him worriedly, his hand pressed to Rodney's heart. 

"You okay?" John asked, concern clear in his eyes. "'cause it would be a bitch if you died from us having sex." 

"Always. The. Romantic." Rodney's breathing evened out a little, and he rolled John over onto his back and straddled his thighs. "We were in the middle of something, right?" 

John waved his cock at Rodney, who was more than ready to take the hint. Leaning over, he licked at the tip before sucking the head into his mouth; oh, yeah. That was just right. He found his balance, leaning in so he could open his mouth wide, slide his tongue down near to the root of John's dick, and then lick back up again. Down and up, sucking and licking, friction and warm, slick heat. It just didn't get any better than this. 

From the noises that John made, he seemed to think so too. He stroked his hands over Rodney's face and hair, feather-light caresses of his cheek and shoulders, and over Rodney's nose. "God, that's good. So good. Yeah." He whimpered a bit when Rodney got it just right, so naturally Rodney had to do that again and again, just to hear John moan. He could feel the tension building under his tongue and lips, felt it as John was got close to coming. 

"Rodney, I'm gonna—"

"Good," Rodney gasped out, before sucking John's cock again, wanting to feel and taste what John was like. 

Flopping back against the bed and gripping onto the fur, John arched up, thrusting deep into Rodney's mouth; the thick fluid was salty and just exactly what Rodney wanted. He finished swallowing and crawled over next to John, pulling the covers up around them. 

"Well, that was fun," he said, rubbing his finger over the stubble on John's jaw. 

"Yeah, it kinda was." John wrapped his fingers around Rodney's and squeezed; Rodney relaxed his head against John's chest, feeling safe and warm, and ready for a good power nap. 

* * *

Zelenka's voice came across the radio. "Colonel Sheppard? Rodney?" 

Shaking away the muzziness of sleep, Rodney fumbled the radio on. "Here, Radek." 

"We have the equipment in place and will have you out shortly. How are you and Colonel Sheppard?" 

"Cold, stiff, and a little bruised. My back is killing me." Rodney couldn't stop grinning as he looked at John. 

"Your back is always killing you," John grumbled. He stood and stretched, his back popping loudly as he did so. "Okay, you may have a point." 

Rolling his eyes, Rodney said to Radek, "We'll meet you at the main door." He clicked the radio off and stood, staring ruefully down at his own clothing. 

"With the blood and the dirt, no one will notice," John said.

Rodney snorted. "Yeah. Right." He untucked his shirt, then went over to the chest and pulled out the fruitcake. "The things I do for you," he grumbled, and smeared the decaying stuff over the questionable stains on his pants. 

"Rodney?" John sounded shocked. "You didn't have to do that."

"Oh, please. Zelenka is a scientist. If he noticed, there is no way he'd let something like that go." 

"Well...thank you." John grabbed his pack, and looked meaningfully at Rodney. "So, once we're back and Beckett lets us out of the infirmary...you want to, um, see a movie? Or something." 

"Are you asking me on a date, Sheppard?"

John shrugged. "Maybe."

"Cool." He patted John's stomach in passing. "I get to pick the show, which won't be  Back to the Future.".


End file.
